


Strong Steady and Fearless

by Pennygirl612



Series: Family Ties [2]
Category: White Collar
Genre: Emotional Hurt, Gen, Heavy Angst, Mentions of Cancer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-12
Updated: 2018-08-12
Packaged: 2019-06-26 13:24:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15664080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pennygirl612/pseuds/Pennygirl612
Summary: Peter has to deal with the possibility that Elizabeth has breast cancer.





	Strong Steady and Fearless

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so I decided to try and make this a series. This is Part 2 of the Family Ties verse, and is taken from Peter's point of view. Both parts can be read as stand alone stories.

Family Ties Part 2 Strong Steady and Fearless

Peter Burke was strong, steady, and fearless. That’s what they would say. Just ask anyone. 

So it was a good thing no one could see him now; locked alone in the obscure, never used basement bathroom, down on his hands and knees, head hovering over the toilet as he dry heaved until he was breathless, stomach knotted and aching. Dry-heaving because he hadn’t managed to consume anything more than stale coffee and whiskey in the last two days, 13 hours, and fifty-four minutes to be exact. He had consumed nothing resembling food since going home to find Elizabeth sitting on the porch stoop waiting for him. 

Elizabeth had put on a brave front telling him about the mammogram and the follow-up ultra-sound but Peter knew his wife. Heard the slight tremor in her voice, saw the occasional shiver that she tried to suppress. Feeling more and more numb as she spoke to him, Peter had no choice but to follow her lead finding himself nodding when she assured him that it was probably nothing and certainly nothing to be worried about. With a smile and confidence Peter knew for certain she didn’t feel, Elizabeth had informed Peter the doctor, herself, had told Elizabeth not to worry. And there was the added knowledge that her own mother at Elizabeth’s age had numerous cysts removed from her breasts and all of those had been benign. There was no reason not to assume the same would be true for Elizabeth.

“Women are just lumping creatures,” Elizabeth had said with a forced smile. Peter wondered who Elizabeth was more likely trying to convince that nothing was wrong. “I have a biopsy scheduled for tomorrow afternoon. I know its short notice and you probably have a lot going on at work so you don’t have to--”

Don’t have to what?! Peter wanted to scream and shake her. Not be there for her?! Did she really think his job was so fucking important that he would let her go by herself?! That his damn job was more important than she was?! 

But Peter didn’t scream and he didn’t shake her. He simply in a quiet, controlled tone informed her that he wanted to be there. He would be there.

Elizabeth stared at him long and hard. Peter suspected she was trying to determine if he was as calm and “okay” as he was acting. He forced himself not to flinch and to maintain eye contact. Neal would have been proud about how easily Peter was able to con his wife. While Peter wasn’t happy about deceiving her, there was no way in hell that he would let Elizabeth see that he was a moment’s breath away from completely breaking down. So he maintained perfect eye contact until she looked away.

“I’ll meet you there,” she informed him, leaving him no room to argue that he would prefer to take the day off and together drive to the clinic. Instead he maintained a neutral expression, nodding again. Because she needed him to be Peter Burke: strong, steady, and fearless.

*****

For the remainder of the evening they both did their best to live in denial, pretending nothing had changed, nothing was wrong. Peter did it for Elizabeth just as he suspected she did it for him. Neither wanting to be the one to spoil the illusion of normalcy. Instead they talked about everything and nothing. She told him about her latest client (bridezilla and mother bridezilla) and he told her of his latest case (another boring mortgage fraud). 

And when they had both somehow managed to make it through the evening and were ready for bed, emotionally exhausted from walking on eggshells around each other, Peter thought it couldn’t get worse. But of course it did. Passing the walk-in closet on his way to the bathroom, he saw his wife standing silently in front of the full length mirror and the look on her face nearly dropped him to his knees. But he didn’t stop and ask what she was doing or what she was thinking. The look had said it all. Without a word, he continued on allowing her the moment of privacy he knew she needed. 

And when she finally came to bed, he kissed her just as he would have any other night. However his lips didn’t linger any longer than usual, and he didn’t draw her into his arms even though he desperately wanted to, halfway convinced he could somehow protect her and keep all the bad things away if he did. And he certainly didn’t let her see how the smile that didn’t make it to her eyes and the casual good night she spoke broke his heart. Instead he returned the smile, whispered good night, (and a silent I love you because it wasn’t something they typically said to one another at night) and turned out the light. He reminded himself as he still lay awake three hours later that he was Peter Burke: strong, steady, and fearless.

*****

The following morning Peter went to work simply because she asked him to. Even though he wanted nothing more than to stay home with his wife, he did as she requested not wanting to add stress to what was already going to be a very stressful day. And somehow he managed to make it through his work day without anyone the wiser. Peter knew he looked like shit having gotten no sleep the night before. He guessed he could thank the frequent all-nighters he and his team had pulled in the past as well as his reputation for working relentlessly in his off hours for why no one questioned his run down look on this particular day. 

As they waited for her to be called back, Elizabeth slipped her hand into his; the only indication that she was nervous. And they waited…and waited. Peter was grateful when they finally called her name; tired of the fake smile planted on his face. An hour later, when she returned, it took all he had to keep that same fake smile in place and not run up to her and draw her in his arms. 

His wife was in pain; physical pain. Despite trying to hide it, Peter knew. He could tell by the way she favored her right side, the way she gingerly took each step forward. Waves of anger flooded through him and he thought about storming down the hallway to find the one responsible. For a brief moment, he allowed himself to think about what he would do when he found the son of the bitch. How he would grab him by the neck and slam him against the closest wall. Peter would knock out a tooth or two while he relentlessly punched the culprit behind his wife’s pain. He would—Peter blinked and drew in a quick breath when a small, cold hand slipped into his; grounding him back in reality.

“Take me home,” was all she said so he did. How could he do anything but what she asked of him? And when they got home and her voice cracked when she said she was tired and just wanted to go to bed, Peter simply nodded in understanding watching her slowly make her way upstairs. He wanted her to stay or for her to invite him up. He wanted her to share in her thoughts and pain even if he couldn’t share his with her because the last think he would do was add to her heavy burden. But she never said a word as she ascended the stairs and Peter tried his best to tell himself he understood. 

Remaining downstairs, sitting alone in the dark, Peter poured himself a whiskey knowing that beer wasn’t nearly potent enough given the hell he had been through on this day. As he sipped the whiskey, welcoming the harsh burn in the back of his throat, he told himself it was okay because he was Peter Burke: strong, steady, and fearless.

*****

To Peter’s relief, the following day, Elizabeth stayed home. It was obvious she was sore, achy, and needed the rest. He had thought she would be stubborn, hard-headed and insist upon going to work. Instead she had wrapped herself in her favorite blanket and carried a cup of hot tea into the living room. Satchmo sensing something was wrong followed her and lay protectively at her feet. For a moment, Peter couldn’t help but be jealous of the dog. She would let Satchmo into her world. She would seek comfort from his wagging tail and sloppy kisses. Peter, on the other hand, she would keep at a distance and that hurt.

So Peter shouldn’t have been surprised when he told her he would call into work that her eyes shot daggers at him. In no uncertain terms was he staying home, she had said to him; insisting there was nothing he could do. She had reminded him again how important his work was and that people counted on him. 

Knowing what she really meant was that she needed some time alone, Peter had nodded, kissed her goodbye, said “hon” and was out the door. He tried hard (unsuccessfully) not to dwell on the fact that she had effectively kicked him out of the house rather than accept his comfort leaving him to hurt even a little bit more. 

Now sitting in his office, Peter had hoped work would be a welcome distraction, but he found no refuge in the pages upon pages of financial statements, line after line blurring together in front of him. Every so often he would glance at the clock to find only six minutes had passed since the last time he had looked at it. He was quickly losing patience and feeling frustrated, mostly with himself. She had told him not to worry; insisting she was fine. It was all wasted worry, she told him when his mask had slipped and she had seen doubt in Peter’s brown eyes. And he tried so damn hard to believe her. She had reminded him that they would get the results tomorrow and then they could move on with their lives. But right now tomorrow felt like a lifetime away. 

A knock at the door interrupted his thoughts. Peter wasn’t surprised to find Neal standing there. He had been doing his very best to avoid everyone ever since El had told him the news. Peter, afraid he would see right through his attempts at feigning normalcy, had kept Neal busy reviewing cold cases. No, Peter wasn’t surprised he had come to his office when all others had stayed away, only surprised it had taken him so long. 

The calculating look Neal gave him now left Peter wondering just how long Neal had been standing there before knocking. Peter had no doubt he would have to play this just right if he was going to keep Neal from seeing that something was wrong. Neal cared deeply for Elizabeth and Peter wasn’t sure how he would react to the truth. His behavior in these kinds of circumstances was less than predictable to say the least and the last thing Peter needed right now was Neal going off the rails.

“Neal?” Peter said, adding just the right amount of irritation into his voice knowing it would send the proper message to his CI. The one that said I’m busy (and not on the verge of panicking) and why are you bothering me (instead of I really need to talk to someone). 

“Got some information on Donnelly. Do you want to check it out?” Neal asked, still eyeing Peter up. 

Forcing a smile on his face, Peter shook his head, “No, you and Diana go. I’m going to clock out early today. Kind of have this thing with Elizabeth.” Neal gave him a grin like he knew Peter’s “thing with Elizabeth” was a euphemism for something sexual. Peter exhaled a breath of relief. If he could get something past a conman, he was keeping it together better than he thought.

A short time later Peter did leave work, but he didn’t go home. Sadly, he suspected he wasn’t really welcome there. Peter knew it wasn’t that Elizabeth was purposely shutting him out to hurt him; but rather Peter suspected his mere presence shattered the denial that right now she needed to cloak herself in. That layer of denial was like a protective shield and it was just enough to keep her moving forward and not dwell on what might be happening to her. Peter knew this, but still couldn’t quite forgive his wife for thinking it was only happening to her and that somehow he wasn’t supposed to be effected by this at all. 

Peter managed to make it until after the sun had set before venturing home. The house was dark and eerily silent and it was that silence that had Peter tiptoeing as fast and quietly as he could up the stairs. In the back of his mind he knew his sudden fear was completely irrational but he had to see his wife. He had to see for himself that she was there and that she was fine. His panic wasn’t squelched until he laid eyes on Elizabeth who was lying awake in their bed, staring aimlessly at the ceiling. 

Letting out a sigh of relief, Peter quickly stripped down to his boxers and slid into bed with her. Tonight the need to hold her, to feel her solid and real presence against his body was too much for him to ignore. And if she let out a small sob when he pulled her in close, Peter didn’t say a word instead wrapping his arms a little tighter around her. And if she heard the small hitch in his own breath when Elizabeth didn’t reject that embrace but rather nuzzled harder against him, she was kind enough to remain silent as well. For that Peter was so very grateful that she could allow him this one moment with her and his hurt was just a little less because of it.

It was all just enough for him to believe that when he woke the next morning, he would be Peter Burke again: strong, steady, and fearless. 

*****

Awakening to the sun shining through the window, he found the spot next to him cold and empty. He tried to tamp down his disappointment and reminded himself that four days ago he wouldn’t have given it a second thought. He closed his eyes and allowed himself to simply lie there, mentally preparing himself for the day. In a few hours, they would know whether or not their lives were changing. In the meantime, he would do his best to distract her and thereby himself. 

And it was with that plan in mind that Peter found himself talking to Elizabeth about Neal as they waited for the doctor in the small office area. Neal had been acting a little too helpful around the office lately. Neal had been a little too calm and quiet. His smile had been coming a little too quickly and easily to his face. It was enough to send little warning sirens off in Peter’s head that Neal (and likely Mozzie) was up to something. And without thinking Peter confessed as much to his wife. Seeing the look on her face, Peter instantly clamped down his next words. Panic, annoyance, anger, and dread all seemed present at the same time. Before Peter could ask her about it, there was a knock at the door, startling them both. Just as she had before, Elizabeth slipped her hand into his. Whether she was seeking his comfort or providing her own, Peter wasn’t sure. He guessed it really didn’t matter. 

Five minutes later, the doctor said the words nobody wanted to hear; words neither Peter nor Elizabeth could begin to comprehend or digest. And as her hand slipped from his, Peter felt the loss deep down, like a part of his very essence had just been stripped away. And he was painfully reminded that yes, Peter Burke was strong, steady, and fearless. Except for when it came to his wife and the thought of losing the one person on this earth he knew God had made special for him. Then Peter Burke was weak, shaky, and quite frankly, scared shitless.

**Author's Note:**

> Although my husband will never read this, I still dedicate it to him. (He knows I am writing this series but said he has "been there, done that" and doesn't need to relive all the "fun" that came with my diagnosis.) He was (and is) my rock. While I knew he loved me, I didn't know the depths of his love until we lived through the ups and down of those 3 very long years. I told him then and I say it again: he had the hard part. I only had to do whatever my doctors said. He had to watch me go through everything knowing he couldn't do anything more than offer his love and support. Well, honey, that was enough!


End file.
